Replayed Memories and Stolen Moments
by AfewSentencesShortOfaParagraph
Summary: After Eli leaves for vacation, Clare finds herself thinking about the Frostival more than she'd care to admit aloud. Are her and Eli on the same page? It can't be that easy to mend a relationship. Still, with the help of a friend, anything is possible.


**Dear readers, I am sorry that this is the first new thing you are reading from me in quite some time. I promise all of you that care, I have no given up on Rekindle. Not even close—if Friday night's episode didn't give me the kick in the pants and a new inspiration, I don't know what will. It's just that I've been feeling kind of…lost lately. There's no other way to describe it. But this one shot popped into my head, and I'm hoping it gets me found again. This takes place after the beautiful, magical EClare kiss and is misfit-centric. Please, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, but they are currently doing everything right. So I can't even complain. **

_Clare:_

Christmas was two days away, the best holiday of the year. It was a time for giving and family. A time for renewed faith and second chances. But, most of all, Christmas was my favorite holiday because there was always a palpable feeling of love in the air. Everyone was happier during the holiday season. 

Still, even with all that—even with me having to sleep on the floor of Jake's bedroom because my Aunt Becky's twin girls were taking up all the available bed space in mine—my mind was unfocused and cloudy. I should have been concerned with all the last-minute shopping I still had to do. I should have been caught up in the magic and mayhem.

Instead, I was focused on a single, not-so-distant memory. I had replayed it in my head so many times, that I was surprised the colors didn't fade from overuse. I could still hear all the words clearly, though; feel the texture of a certain boy's lips on my own for a moment so brief and stomach-flipping that I couldn't be sure I hadn't just dreamed the entire thing.

But I hadn't. I had a single, lonely text to prove that, if I had been dreaming the entire thing, Eli was also trapped in my subconscious.

A smile tugged at my lips as the scene flashed before my eyes once again, and I flipped open my phone, my fingers knowing just where I wanted to go without me telling them. I had read it so many times, after all, that I had committed the simple words to memory. They just looked more concrete staring at me from the glowing screen of my cell phone.

_Eli: I'm going to miss you. Can't wait to come back so we can talk._

I sighed, listening to the distant sounds of my mother and Aunt Becky chatting in the kitchen. Glen was, no doubt, attached to my mother's hip, but Aunt Becky did enough talking for two so I had no doubt he wouldn't get a word in edgewise. Jake had gone out for a stroll with Jenna, and the twin terrors were fighting over the television remote. So I just sat on my favorite window seat at the end of the upstairs hall, watching the snow sprinkle down and thinking of a boy I had never really stopped loving. Even after all the time; after all the ups and downs.

And, even with that fact set in stone in my mind, I found myself dreading the talk Eli had mentioned in the last text he had sent me the day after the Frostival. There were so many ways this could all go wrong. What if we weren't ready for this? What if, after everything, we wanted different things? What if we rushed in and lost the tentative progress? My relationship with Eli had never been easy—always worth fighting for, but the odds had been stacked against us. I could tell we were hanging on a delicate balance; I just hoped with all my might that we wouldn't fall.

Tracing tiny hearts onto the condensation on the window, I decided I needed a temporary escape. I needed to clear my head, to stop thinking about Eli. Even if it was just for twenty minutes.

Without a second though, I made my way into the kitchen. Aunt Becky stopped mid-sentence as I strolled over to the fresh sheet of cookies, breathing the scent in deeply. "Hey, Clare-bear! I was just telling your mom how talented my boss thinks you are—I've been showing him your articles from the Degrassi Daily. Glen has been clipping them out and sending them to me."

"Oh, that's nice," I smiled at Glen, unaware that he had been doing that. I didn't even know Glen had the capacity to do something that thoughtful; not because he's a bad guy, just a guy's guy. "Tell Mr. Richardson I said thanks." Aunt Becky nodded, breaking a cookie in half and popping one into her mouth. She was a journalist for a paper in British Columbia, and I was flattered that her editor had even taken the time to read some of my work let alone compliment it. I turned to my mother. "Would you mind if I took a walk?" I asked her, crossing my fingers behind my back, hoping that the Christmas spirit would make her feel more generous than usual.

"Not at all, sweetie," my mom leaned over to kiss the top of my head. "Just be back before seven."

I glanced down at my wrist watch, noting that she had given me an hour and half. I really did love Christmas. "Can do; thanks, Mom." I waved to the three adults. "See you all later," I smiled, donning my jacket, mittens and hat before wasting no time rushing out the door.

As I walked, I focused on nothing but the crisp, cool air as it sliced my lungs, making me feel aware and alive. I focused on the way the snow fell, landing on my shoulders and in my hair. I felt like I was walking within a giant snow globe, the streetlights glowing in the grey light.

I focused on everything but where I was going. So it should have surprised me when I wound up on the Torres' front porch, but in a way it felt completely right, appropriate. Letting myself remain liberated from though, I raised my hand to knock on the door. Drew, dressed in a very interesting Christmas sweater, was the one to answer the door. "Clare!" he exclaimed, leaning in too close for a hug. I smelled alcohol on his breath and smiled to myself.

"Enjoying the holidays, Drew?" I asked. He only looked a little tipsy, not completely drunk, but the way he was swaying concerned me. "Maybe you had better sit down."

"I only let him have a few glasses of wine, but you give them and inch and they take a mile," Audra Torres appeared beside her son, also in a bold, but far less eccentric than Drew's, sweater. She placed a steadying hand on Drew's shoulder and flashed me her custom, tight-lipped smile. "It's nice to see you, Clare."

"You, too, Mrs. Torres. Is Adam home?"

"Adam, your giiirrrrllllfriend is here!" Drew called in the general direction of the basement, giddy as ever.

Audra sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, he's here," she answered unnecessarily, as Adam had bound up the stairs, a confused look on his face.

"But I don't have a-oh, howdy, Clare!"

"Hey, Adam," I smiled, finally stepping inside as Audra pulled Drew toward the kitchen, grumbling something that sounded like "We need to get you some water." I had missed this house. It had been far too long since I had been there…not since I had broken up with Eli. Though Adam and I had remained close, Eli and he were always closer. I missed the days when it was the three of us. And there I was…thinking of Eli again. "How has your break been?"

He swooped in to give me a hug before answering. "Oh, you know, just going slowly insane trapped with these crazy people every day," Adam giggled, gesturing that I should follow him back down to the basement. After we were settled in the couch, and I refused the coke Adam offered me, I felt his intense scrutiny. But if he sensed anything different about me he chose not to say anything. Yet. "What brings you over here?"

"I was just walking, and wound up on your porch," I told him truthfully. It was a testament to what a great friend that Adam was when he didn't accuse me of being crazy. He simply smiled smugly looking flattered and happy that I had come by. "It's been a long time since we've really talked, you know?"

Adam nodded, cocking his head at me. "Yes. It has…so why don't you talk? Something happened to you. Something big."

Adam was also scarily intuitive sometimes. "That's not why I came here, though, to dump my problems of you," I countered. And I hadn't; not really. I was there to see a friend that I had been missing. I was there to just hang out with Adam, savor his presence and friendship. Because Christmas isn't just about giving, it's about being grateful for what you already have.

"Clare, spill," Adam commanded.

And just like that I found myself thinking that if anyone had a right to know what had happened—if anyone would be more ecstatic by the possible reunion—it would be Adam. I took a deep breath. "Fine; you know how the last week of school before break I worked really hard to release and edition of the paper even though Katie was gone?" I started. Adam was nodding impatiently, so I continued. "Well, Eli ended up becoming one of my writers, and we were hanging out and everything was great." Adam cocked his eyebrow at me, his expression growing more involved by the second, but I kept on. "And then, at the Frostival, before he left for break…we kissed." I whispered the last part quietly, reverently. It was almost as if I was unwilling to let anyone else have the memory—as if the more people who knew, the less vivid it would be during my playbacks. But I reminded myself again that Adam, of all people, deserved to know.

"You two what!" Adam exclaimed, jumping out of his seat excitedly.

He seemed to be waited for a confirmation, so I nodded. "Yeah, Eli and I kissed."

"AND I'M NOT HEARING ABOUT THIS UNTIL NOW?"

I flinched, even though I was pretty sure Adam was three parts incredulous and disbelieving and only one part angry. There may have been some excitement, too, but I couldn't be sure.

"Adam," I said gently, tugging him back onto the couch. "What did you expect me to do? Call you up that night and say, 'hey, by the way, Eli and I just kissed. Thought you should know. Bye, now!'"

Adam rolled his eyes. "Not exactly. But that was, what? Like, a week and a half ago? Come on, woman! This is a big deal…like big enough to share."

"I just…didn't know how I felt about it, okay?"

Adam's face suddenly clouded over. "Wait, what do you mean? You weren't, like, leading him on, were you? Because that sucks Clare."

"No!" I immediately recoiled at the thought. "No, no, no. That's the last thing I want to do, but I was just…scared? I still am, I guess. We promised to talk when he gets back, but that's a lot riding on one conversation. For once I don't want to be practical—I just want to leave things unsaid and just be the way we used to; all three of us."

Adam's eyes became instantly understanding again and he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I get that—believe me, I want you two to work things out for our trio's sake, too," he joked, trying to make light of the situation. I cracked a smile, but didn't feel like laughing. "But you have to talk. You have to clarify and all that jazz," he shrugged.

"I just wish there was a way to clarify without revisiting old wounds and betrayals and heartache. Like I said—that's a lot to fit into one conversation. Where would we even go to talk? I doubt Cece and Bullfrog would want me anywhere near Eli after everything that happened. And my mom isn't exactly Eli's biggest fan…"

I trailed off, intrigued by the light shining in Adam Torres' eye. He had an idea, that much was clear. "So talk here," he offered, "at the New Year's eve party my mom just agreed to let Drew and me have."

I considered it. It was a casual setting, no pressure, but still plenty of places we could go to escape; to talk in private. In fact, the more I turned the idea over in my head, the more I liked it. I reached out to ruffle Adam's hair.

"You know, Adam, you are a genius."

XXX

_Eli:_

I collapsed on my bed, tired and sore. One thing Cece's spontaneous trip made clear—I was not meant to be a skier. There were bruises in unspeakable places on my body thanks to the altercation I had with an angry pine tree.

Needless to say, I was glad to be home; glad to be in the same city as Clare Edwards.

Unconsciously, my hand traveled to my lips, my fingers grazing the skin as if I could hold the feeling of Clare's own lips pressed there forever. I wished more than anything that I could. It still felt surreal to me—too good to be true. And I would not believe that it hadn't been more than a wishful dream until I saw her face again.

In my bag, I heard the vibrations of my phone as it received every message I had missed while away. Apparently my cell plan did not cover mountain ranges, and I hadn't been able to get a hold of anyone for a week or so. And that made me anxious. Would Clare have forgotten me by then? Moved on to bigger and better things while I was away?

Trying not to dwell on the dark thoughts, or any thoughts about the uncertain future of Clare and me, I massaged my temples and let my eyes drift closed.

I awoke to the sound of the Imperial March, my specialized ringtone for Adam, a couple hours later. Groggily, I crawled out of bed and dug through my bag until I unearthed the screeching device. "Hello," I grumbled, running a hand through my messy hair.

"Dude, you're home! You have reception!" Adam rejoiced and I smiled sleepily.

"Yeah, the banshees decided not to sacrifice me after all. Apparently sarcasm makes a person's skin too tough to taste good."

"You are so fucking weird," Adam announced, almost as if he were noticing it for the first time.

"Don't forget jet-lagged," I yawned, glancing yearningly at my shower. There was no doubt that I would need one in the very near future.

"Wait…you didn't forget about my party, did you?" he asked, sounding way more hurt and worried than was totally necessary. I mean, I wanted to see him, too, but it was just a New Year's Eve get together. Not the end of the world if I fell back asleep.

And, to be honest, I had kind of forgotten. My mind had been so…consumed by…other things.

"I didn't _really_ forget," I prefaced, about to give him any number of valid excuses for why I would have to sit this one out—the tree being number three on that list.

"You have to come," he cut me off, the urgency in his voice catching my attention.

"Why's that, exactly?"

"Because Clare is going to be here. For you. Ready to talk."

"Oh," I managed an uncoordinated syllable, too dumbfounded to speak. For one, I really wanted—needed—answers from Clare. And I wanted to see her, to hear her voice. Second, I could hear the subtle accusation behind Adam's words. He knew what had happened, and he was hurt I hadn't clued him in myself. "You know I literally couldn't talk to anyone up there, right? I was like its own, remote, private island. I wanted to tell you about…well, Clare talked to you, didn't she?"

I heard Adam exhale huffily on the other line. "Yes. And it's really hard to be mad at you when you have an alibi."

"Good," I laughed, and Adam joined in. "I'll be there a little late, but I'll be there, okay?"

"You had better," he reminded me before the line went dead.

XXX

After a shower to relax my mind, center myself. I felt ready to take on the world. Clare, on the other hand, was much scarier.

Just looking around my room, the way it was so different from the year before—no longer a personal hell—was a testament to just how much I owed Clare Edwards. Being with her had made me feel alive, well. Losing her had felt like the end of the world. How was I supposed to face her—hash out all the unanswered questions—if I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that there was hope again to begin with?

All I knew was that the moment her lips had touched mine, I flashed back to every reason we had been together in the first place. And I felt happy, infinite and content in that moment.

With a confused, frustrated sigh, I dressed quickly, shook out my drying hair and wrote a note for Cece and Bullfrog, who were in their room with the door locked, before taking off for Adam's house on foot. I looked at my watch—and hour and a half till midnight.

Upon arrival, I noticed that Drew must have had more pull with the guest list than Adam because nearly every member of the 12th grade class was wandering the basement and first level of the Torres house. Not to mention, a large smattering of jocks and 'popular' girls. Not exactly my crowd, but I wasn't there for any of them, anyway.

I nodded at KC and Alli talking by a bowl of punch as the latter jumped up and down excitedly, waving at me. I wondered briefly what Clare had told Alli, but then decided that I didn't care enough to stop and find out. I was a man on a mission.

As I pushed around the closely packed bodies, I ran right into Jake Martin, running up the stairs to the basement without looking. He was holding hands with Jenna, and he blushed a deep crimson when he followed where my gaze landed. "Hey, Eli," he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "How are you?"

"Eli Goldsworthy!" Jenna chirped before I could answer. She wasted no time pulling me into a hug that I certainly did not want. I patted her back awkwardly, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I had somehow given these people we were friends when we worked on the paper together. Why else would Jenna Middleton be hugging me? "Clare's downstairs," she whispered in my ear, and I pulled away to smile gratefully at her.

"Thanks…Good to see you, Jake. Happy New Year," I pumped my fist in mock enthusiasm, but the couple simply smiled happily and went on their merry way.

I bounded down the staircase, doing a quick sweep of the crowded room, looking for Adam or Clare. Instead, my eyes landed on Imogen and Fiona sharing a rocking chair in the corner…their lips locked in a heated kiss.

How much had I missed while skiing, anyway!

Pulling my eyes away from the private moment—making a mental note to corner those two and ask them what the hell was going on later—I spotted Adam refilling a bowl of snack mix. I pushed my way toward him, sneaking up from behind. "Momma Torres would be so proud of your hosting skills," I teased him.

Adam whirled around and held his hand up for a high five. "You're here, man! Perfect timing! How was the trip?" he asked.

"Pretty decent," I shrugged. "It's good to be home, though. What have you been up to?"

Adam merely rolled his eyes, and spun me around, pointing to where Clare was standing on the patio, looking up at the night sky. "We can talk about me later. Someone has been expecting you," Adam chuckled ominously. "Besides, I just did more of the usual—I've almost made my butt arms on the couch," he told me proudly, admitting that he was spending most of his time playing video game.

But I didn't have the time to come up with a witty comeback—Adam shoved me roughly toward the sliding door. Before I could take any time to second guess myself or change my mind, I was pulling the glass out of my way, and stepping out to stand next to Clare. I looked up, noticing that it was a pretty clear night for January, stars just barely visible where the clouds had parted. "Nice night," I started conversationally, glancing at Clare from under my lashes.

"A little chilly," Clare matched my nonchalant tone, pulling her blazer more tightly around her torso. "When did you get back?"

"A few hours ago."

"Welcome home," she finally turned to face me, a timid smile on her face. I felt my heart pound uncomfortably in my chest at her beauty. "I-uh-I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Clare." I gulped, letting our admissions hang in the air. We weren't even close to being done, though; there was still so much to say. "So, let's talk."

Clare flushed, gripping my upper arm and leading me over to a decorative bench Mrs. Torres had placed in the garden. As we lowered ourselves onto the cold metal, I felt my knee bump against Clare's. And then she sat so close to me that our thighs were brushing. Coherency was going to be difficult, but detrimental. I cleared my throat, trying to clear my mind, too. "So…we really kissed, right? It wasn't a dream?" Clare asked suddenly, her voice low; almost as if she were scared of the answer.

And I couldn't help it—I laughed. "I'm pretty sure it was real…I hope it was real, in any case."

"But you remember it, too?" she checked, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Well I was certainly not going to forget," I scoffed, my teasing tone coated with a layer of seriousness.

Clare let out a sigh of relief, looking up at me to meet my gaze. "So…what now?"

"I was actually hoping you had the answer to that question," I gulped, wanting so badly to just pull her into my arms and never let go. She was so close, and I had a horrid handle on my self-control.

"Eli…I'm so sorry about last April. I was just—I got scared and didn't know what else to do. I panicked, and I left, but that didn't mean that I stopped caring about you. I just didn't know how to help you, so I ran away."

I placed my hand gently on her shoulder. "Clare, I hope you're not still beating yourself up about that. Believe me when I say I understood why you had to leave. I might not have liked it, but I understood." I took a deep breath, knowing it was my turn. "Besides, if anyone needs to apologize, it's me. The way I, erm, pursued you last year after spring break…it was unforgiveable. I wasn't thinking clearly, and I'm sorry for all the stress and pressure I put on you. I should have just focused on the fact that you were happy without me, and let sleeping dogs lie."

Clare was already shaking her head. "I don't blame you for that, Eli. You were sick, and you didn't know how to deal with it. You're better now, and that's all that matters."

I nodded, my breath caught in my lungs as an invisible magnet seemed to pull me closer and closer to Clare. I knew we hadn't covered everything we needed to, that there was so much still left to talk about. Scars that needed to be mended and wounds that had to be patched. But, in that moment, it felt like everything was okay for once. There was no blame or guilt left on the table. It was just Clare and I…raw for the other to see. "So where does that leave us?" I asked as, inside, the Degrassi students yelled "10!"

They were counting down to midnight.

"I guess…we have time to figure that out," Clare's brow wrinkled in frustration—she looked as though she was holding back what she really wanted to say.

"7!"

"Time together to work it all out…I like that," I sighed, leaning in just a little closer.

"5!"

"Right," Clare whispered breathlessly, her eyes never leaving mine. "So you have your answer."

"3!"

I gave her a questioning cock of my eyebrow, so Clare clarified. "We _can_ pick up where we left off."

"2!"

And in that moment it didn't matter if Clare was talking about us picking back up with our friendship, or if she meant where we had left off at the Frostival, because she was leaning in, too. Inching closer until…

"1; happy New Year!"

I threw caution to the wind, reeled in, and pressed my lips firmly over Clare's. She responded immediately, her fingers curling themselves into my hair as I cradled the side of her neck, my thumb skimming her cheek. The kiss took my breath away, left me speechless and had my heart beating out an irregular rhythm as we pulled just far away enough from each other to catch our breath.

"This is going to be the best New Year ever," Adam quipped from the doorway, making both Clare and me jump. "The misfits are back, baby!" he did a fist pump before dancing his way back into the crowd, making a fool out of himself.

Clare and I laughed as we watched him go. "You know, I think Adam might be on to something," I turned to Clare, smirking.

"I _know_ he's onto something," Clare corrected with a wide smile before pulling me in for another, perfect kiss.


End file.
